


No Exceptions

by TinyFakeFanficRock



Series: Ad meliora [8]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Friendship, Gen, Tribal Courier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyFakeFanficRock/pseuds/TinyFakeFanficRock
Summary: Ad meliora: Friendship Is Magic





	No Exceptions

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks to Lindra and AndeliaMaddock for their reading and encouragement.

If Cass were Mel, she'd have gotten in a hell of a lot of fights over the past few weeks over some of the shit people said to her. Instead, Mel just shrugged off the catcalls, insults, and outright threats and either got the conversation back on track or kept walking. Cass knew Mel was remarkably thick-skinned, but there was a time for quiet dignity -- Cass hadn't found it yet, but she was sure it existed -- and there was a time to kick asses so people would respect you. She'd told Mel that a few times before, but she just shrugged. "Not worth the effort," she always said.

When it came to people shit-talking her friends, though, it was just the opposite. Mel never let that shit go unchallenged. Not even among friends, judging by the way she was eyeing Arcade after he suggested leaving ED-E behind.

"Excuse me?" she said mildly, ED-E bobbing at her shoulder.

Cass tried to hide a smirk. She'd learned over the last couple of months that when Mel said that, it was never because she hadn't heard someone. And it was about damn time the doc caught some shit for running his big mouth.

He put up his hands, apparently at least aware he'd irritated her. "I'm not saying we shouldn't take it with us. I'm just saying that if it were to 'fall' into Lake Mead and be irreparably damaged ... and if you threw an EMP grenade in after it --"

"That's beneath you, Arcade. And Veronica worked so hard to get Edie working again, too." Mel actually patted the robot in question affectionately, reinforcing Cass's conviction that where the rest of them saw _musical murderbot_ , Mel saw _pet_. "Why don't you like her?"

His eyes darted this way and that before he finally said, "It ... just seems a little twitchy. Some of these robots, you look at them the wrong way, don't screw in a vacuum tube right..."

"Are you saying you don't trust Ronnie's work?" Cass cut in, making it clear the stakes were now way higher than Mel's disapproval. _Hell_ no, he did not get to imply she'd done a half-assed job when ED-E had been her personal project for a week and a half.

Arcade wisely took a couple steps back. "Well, no, but --"

"Edie is part of the team, and we _all_ protect each other. No exceptions." Mel folded her arms. That was final.

ED-E beeped cheerfully. Arcade sighed and rolled his eyes. Cass flipped him off behind Mel's back. But they all went out together.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to the Great Khan they'd just crossed paths with on the outskirts of Fiend territory.

"I said, do you know you're traveling with a fucking murderer?" the Khan repeated, stabbing a finger in Boone's direction.

Cass expected Mel to light into him then -- you could almost believe she wasn't really interested in Boone that way until someone was rude to him. But instead she turned to the sniper and told him almost cheerfully, "He's right, you know; you're traveling with a killer. I hope you don't mind."

_That_ shut the Khan right up. Stunned Boone, too.

Cass let Mel think the slight smirk that crossed her face went unnoticed.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to the Boomer in the mess hall who was pointing agitatedly at Rex.

"I said, that thing is housebroken, right?"

"His name is Rex," she said icily, "and he's a _good boy_."

The Boomer stalked away, muttering something about "let one savage in and the whole place goes to hell."

Mel tensed at the epithet, but then Rex nuzzled her hand. She smiled and fed him another piece of Salisbury Steak.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to the Brotherhood of Steel scribe who'd interrupted Raul's examination of the jammed minigun lying on a nearby table.

"I said, I hope the air filters are working, because now I have to put up with the stench of rotting ghoul." Cass hadn't realized it was actually possible to talk with your lip curled up that much, but the scribe was managing it.

Mel's expression was also disgusted, but not for the same reason. "The air filters are fine. If you want things to smell better, get your head out of your ass." She turned back to the worktable. "Raul, let's go. They can solve their own problems."

"Uh, little late for that, boss," he told her a bit sheepishly. "I've already fixed it."

"I guess you can't help being _vastly more skilled_ with advanced technology," she said, loud enough to echo in the metal corridors. "It probably has to do with your _centuries of accumulated knowledge_." And then she swept from the room.

Cass nodded and threw an arm around his shoulder just to watch the Steelies cringe at someone touching a ghoul.

"Hey, I know the boss just called me old, but I can still stand up on my own." Raul's words were self-deprecating as always, but his voice was a little thick. They followed Mel from the room to the sounds of the scribe wielding a hammer harder than was strictly necessary.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to the Gomorrah floor manager, who was still gaping up at Lily.

"Uh, I don't think we allow her kind in here." He looked much less sure of himself the second time he said it. Word about Big Sal and Nero must have gotten around.

"I'll check on that for you," she told him politely, and then took the stairs to the Gomorrah offices two at a time. Lily didn't have to change her stride in the slightest to keep up, but Cass was nearly jogging.

The office door was slightly ajar, so Mel kicked it open. "Cachino!" Her voice was even sharper than the crack of the doorknob against the wall behind it. "We need to talk."

The newly-minted Omerta boss caught his breath, wiped sweat from his brow, muttered something that sounded a lot like _Jesus fuck, lady, what now_ and then said aloud, "Can it wait?"

"No. Your floor manager was just very rude to Lily here. Said she wasn't allowed in here."

Cachino actually looked at them then. "Thought her name was Cass --" Then his eyes landed on Lily and bulged. "Wait, you mean that fucking mutie?"

"Lily is a _Nightkin_ ," Mel told him, cold and precise, lips pressed together in a thin line when she finished speaking -- warning signs saying _danger, turn back_.

Cachino ignored them. "We're open to all of mankind and girlkind and ghoulkind, but I gotta draw a line somewhere -- I'm not running a fucking zoo here! Mutantkind stays outside."

Mel slapped the heel of her hand against the door frame. "Oh, so Clanden's kind was just fine, but you'll ban a sweet grandmother because she's too big?"

"'Sweet grandmother'? That thing is dangerous!"

"So am I, Cachino. And I'm not leaving your office until you apologize to Lily for how you've treated her. Which means the woman under your desk is going to have a difficult time finishing what you two started before I came in."

A nervous giggle from under the desk confirmed Mel's keen perception. Cass snorted with barely-suppressed laughter. Cachino groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "Goddammit, okay, I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology," Lily rumbled graciously. "Leo doesn't, but we try not to listen to him anyway."

Cachino sighed, long and ragged, and continued addressing Mel. "I think I'm just gonna tell my people not to talk to your friends anymore."

"Fine by me." As they left, Cass had to smother a chuckle because Mel had said it the exact same way Boone always did, and she would _not_ appreciate having that pointed out.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to Pacer, who was still openly leering at Ronnie in her pretty pink sundress. Several Kings looked on with expressions that screamed _this is gonna be good_.

"I told baby over here that she's just never met the right guy and that's why she thinks she don't like 'em." He looked Ronnie up and down again and Cass fought the urge to smash his teeth in with the butt of her gun. This was the first time Ronnie had worn her new dress and she was pissed that Pacer was ruining it for her.

Ronnie herself just looked a little dazed. Cass realized it was partly that she wasn't expecting to be hit on -- nobody bothered her when she wore the green sack -- and mostly that the Brotherhood of Shitheads had fed her that same line a hundred times. His bringing all that shit up for her made Cass want to waste a shotgun shell on him, even if it would bring all the other Kings out to fight.

Pacer was not helping his case at all. "Come on now, I got eight inches that says --"

"Not for much longer, you won't." Cass drew her fist back, but Mel smoothly stepped between them.

"The lady said no, Pacer."

"But --"

Mel leaned in so Pacer could appreciate that she was two inches taller than he was and spoke insultingly slower and louder. "The lady. Said. _No_."

"Hey!" The King burst in from the other room, and he did not look pleased with the direction this conversation had taken. Cass tensed; they were, after all, on his turf. But then he continued, " _Pace._ You've got more than enough girls to pick from. Don't chase one that don't want you. That's just _manners_." Cass released the breath she'd been holding and tried not to smirk at the unspoken but obvious _You know better, and I'm very disappointed in you._

Pacer slumped sullenly against the wall and mumbled an apology.

Beside her, she felt Mel take her hand off her combat knife. _Damn,_ Cass thought, impressed that Mel was willing to take on the whole building just for them.

\---

"Excuse me?" said Mel mildly to Simon, the Silver Rush guard, who'd hailed them as they passed.

"Your hearing's going to shit, girl. I said, 'Looks like you won Jean-Baptiste's jackpot by bringing in the Cassidy bitch.'"

_Me? What the fuck, wrecking my livelihood wasn't enough for those shitstains?_

Mel patted Cass's back as if she actually needed the reassurance. "Let's pretend my hearing is bad enough that I didn't catch what you called my friend so you can tell me about this 'jackpot'."

Simon spat on the sidewalk. "Not much to tell. Jean-Baptiste wants to turn her into a plasma puddle. He's paying anyone who makes his dream come true."

"Ah. I see," Mel replied.

Things happened incredibly fast after that. Mel threw something red inside the Silver Rush, grabbed Cass's arm, and took off running towards The King's place. They made it to the corner before the explosions started; Cass looked behind them and saw the red and green light show as the windows blew out.

Simon had followed them with his plasma rifle raised, but Mel took his arm off at the shoulder before he could get a shot off. She shot a look at the Silver Rush crier on the corner, but he had the sense to flee toward Mick and Ralph's. Then she turned to Cass and asked, "You okay?"

Cass patted herself down to check and realized she only had two sticks of dynamite in the outside pocket of her bag. She usually carried three. "Holy fuck, Mel, did you just blow the Van Graffs up with my fuckin' dynamite?"

"I'll buy you some more. Is it all right that I changed my mind about letting the NCR take them down?"

Moments like these, Cass was never sure how serious Mel was. So she just laughed, took a serious swig of whiskey, and then laughed again to see if it sounded any less hysterical this time. "I think I can forgive you."

\---

The Powder Gangers at the Whittaker Farmstead did not get the benefit of an "Excuse me?" when they pointed at Arcade and yelled, "We bought and sold guys like Four-Eyes over there like property back in the prison!" Cass was readying her shotgun even before she saw the stony look descend on Mel's face.

When they'd put down all four unwise convicts, she thought that would be the end of it, but Mel was still carrying herself way too rigidly for any of them to relax entirely. She led them back to the Lucky 38, collected the others, and mounted an assault on the NCR Correctional Facility that could only be described as "gross overkill".

Arcade said later, halfway into a bottle of vodka, that he wasn't sure how to feel about having wholesale slaughter carried out in his defense.

Mel only shrugged. "I couldn't always protect the people I cared about. I can now. So I do."

\---

"We've been everywhere else on the Strip. So I guess we should at least visit the Ultra-Luxe to take a look around, get a sense of the White Gloves." Mel clearly didn't relish the idea. Neither did Cass, who thought they were the creepiest of the Three Families. The Omertas were scum, but at least they showed you their faces.

"No thanks," said Boone. Raul nodded agreement.

To Cass' surprise, so did Lily. "They're not nice people. Too hungry."

"Well, I'll go," Arcade said to fill the silence Lily's nonsense statements often left in their wake. "The food's supposed to be top-notch."

And Ronnie, of course, was ecstatic. "I know just what I want to wear! And I have some ideas for you, too, Cass."

Cass found she didn't actually mind the idea of dressing up if it was Ronnie doing the dressing. It helped that instead of the frou-frou numbers Cass was bracing for, she'd found her a pale blue silk blouse and a black jacket and pants. It especially helped that she'd asked Cass to zip up the lacy mint green dress she'd picked out for herself, giving her a sly opportunity to trail her fingers up Ronnie's beautifully muscled back and make her shiver.

"Later," Ronnie muttered, drawing a throaty chuckle from Cass.

Mel peeked around the corner, now wearing a deep pink organza dress with long sleeves and a scoop neckline. The style was right for the Ultra-Luxe, but not for Mel. On most women the hemline would have fallen at about mid-calf, but she was tall enough that it hung awkwardly just under her knees, and, well, she didn't really fill out the bodice. They couldn't let her go in that. Cass, sensing this situation could probably use actual tact, tossed her head in Mel's direction and gave Ronnie a pleading look and got the _I'm on it_ wink in reply.

"Mel, did you see this one? I think the color will look really good on you." Ronnie dove into the closet and emerged almost immediately with a simple knee-length sleeveless dress in a silky cream-colored fabric. Cass had a feeling she'd been picking it out in her head before she'd even been asked. 

Mel's expression was sheepish but clearly relieved. She changed quickly and tucked a broc flower behind one ear to dress up her usual hairstyle. It wasn't exactly the White Gloves' look, but it was striking, and much more flattering. She flicked an uneasy glance in a mirror and traced a finger along the long edge of the burn scar on her shoulder. "Think I'll pass for 'civilized'? Maybe I should find something to cover my shoulders. Do I need jewelry? I think I saw a necklace around here somewhere." Her words were coming much faster than usual. Kinda funny that of all the things they'd been through together, it was going to a fancy casino that made Mel nervous.

"Don't overaccessorize. You look lovely just like that," Ronnie reassured her, and Mel stood a little straighter.

Even with that little boost of confidence, though, she was still so edgy that Cass and Ronnie didn't even point out that Boone turned a little pink and disappeared around the corner when Mel emerged from her room. Arcade was waiting by the elevator, looking pretty snappy himself in a dark gray suit, and the four of them set off.

They checked their weapons with well-practiced ease and then spent a few minutes just taking in the atmosphere. Ronnie was looking at everyone else's clothes, Mel was staring at the big blue sculpture that went up to the ceiling, Arcade was praising their choice of Vivaldi as ambient music, and Cass? Cass was checking out the bar. _Damn_ , this place was overpriced.

Mel asked a passing White Glove what the waiting list for The Gourmand was like tonight.

"About three hours for your friends, but you? You look like you'd be more at home at one of the other hotels," he said with a sneer. "I suggest the Atomic Wrangler for your kind."

He'd caught Mel so far off-guard that she actually let her reaction show. Her face flushed and her eyes dropped to the carpet, and it tore at Cass to see her friend so hurt and deflated.

Before she knew it she was talking. Okay, maybe yelling: "Hey, fuckhead, you can take your shitty attitude and shove it right back up your ass." Cass hadn't meant to make Mel jump like that, but _Christ_ , what an asshole.

The White Glove sputtered a bit, but backed off. Way off. All the way into the cashier's cage off. It did Cass's heart good to know she could still scare the piss out of someone even with her shotgun in a whole other room.

Mel turned on her, her eyes enormous. " _Cass!_ You're going to get _everyone_ kicked out. I can just go. It's not --"

"If they talk to you like that, I don't want to be here," said Ronnie with deep conviction.

"But you --"

"You're worth the effort, too," Cass told her.

"We all protect each other," Arcade put in. "No exceptions."

For a second she was afraid Mel was going to yell at them, or worse, cry. Instead she hugged each of them, quick but fierce. And then, at Ronnie's suggestion, they put Abraxo in the fountain outside and made bubble sculptures.


End file.
